Prologue - After

Portland, Oregon 2012

Aimee

The heels of my boots click with every strike against the cold soaked cement. The dank night air creeps in through my thin sweater. I shiver and wrap my arms around myself and try to keep up with his pace.

I round the corner, staying across the street from him. I don't want him to get too far ahead of me. The street is crowded enough that if I wink people will notice. His outdated pleather jacket makes it easy to keep him in my sights. I roll my eyes and snort. No one but an immortal would be caught dead wearing pleather.

He turns down a dark alley. I grimace and wonder if perhaps he is looking for his next victim. He doesn't glance behind himself. He's overconfident. They always are. His kind always believes they are the strongest animals in the urban jungle. Most of them don’t know about me. The ones that have actually met me are usually in the throws of their own death. Introductions seem like a waste at that point. As usual, his instincts lie to him and allow for a false sense of security. He just doesn't know it yet.

I finger the platinum ring on my right middle finger with my thumb. I have always loved the thin red line running through the middle of it to the red rose. The ring is my mark. It is my badge. It permits me to follow the man. It makes my brand of deadly force acceptable.

I wink my right eye, flashing in front of him. I smirk at the flash of confusion in his eyes and grab his arm. He struggles for a second but I lift him into the air, before he has a chance to change into a worthy adversary. I shudder and gasp when my hands make contact with the warm fleshy meat of his throat.

The sparks fill me and the air around us. The touch of his skin makes every moment magnify, as my senses heighten from the feast. He chokes and fights, but it's useless.

His eyes catch the ring on my finger, recognition and fear spreads across his face.

"You're a Rose." He croaks.

His last words.

“Stop!” A man's voice echoes through the alley.

The fire of the spark dies, taking my meal with it.

I growl and drop the dead man to the cold ground.

I hate ending my meal that way. I lick my lips, wondering if my eyes still glow like molten steel. I have to admit, I think it looks cool. The man in the alley probably won't.

I glance down the alley to where a policeman stands with his gun drawn. I laugh inside at the way his hands shake with the sizable gun in them.

“Stay where you are.” His voice never wavers, but I can sense the fear coming off him. I realize suddenly his voice is familiar. Panic fills me.

I look around for an exit as his steps fill the silent alley. He squints, no doubt from the confusion over my still glowing eyes.

I smile, raising my hands, hoping to stop him in his tracks. “Run his prints and you’ll thank me.”

He continues to walk toward me cautiously, assessing the alley and the danger. “Get down on the ground.” He waves the gun slowly. I grimace and bite my lip. I could steal his gun and knock him out.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Really, would you lie on this street? This alley is filthy with germs and God only knows what else.” I try to be funny. He's going to recognize me any second.

A gust of wind blows past him, bringing with it a scent like laundry soap and deodorant. It's the subtle mix of windblown sea air that makes me feel sick. I blink forcing a tear to slip from my eye.

I gulp and push down my feelings. I love Aleks, he is the right choice. There is no doubt about that.

He looks at me in disbelief. “You, you’re the one? That's not possible.”

I can see the raw emotion on his face. His lower lip trembles.

I take a step back, putting my hands out further. “Shane, just pretend you never saw me. The medics will say heart attack.”

He shakes his head. “No, not you.” His face twists in pain. “Anyone but you. Why?”

I blink as the memories of every second of our time together crams into my brain.

Every touch.

Every smile.

I look down and swallow. “I have to eat, they make sense.”

He looks disgusted. “You’re eating them? How? They have no marks. None of the others had marks.”

I let the moment of shame fill me. I make myself remember his face the times I'd broken up with him. Broken him. I force myself to feel it all. I deserve to suffer.

I know deep down if I let myself look I will find the girl that wants to sit on the back steps of his house, listening to his dreams.

Instead I turn and jump onto the handrail of the stairs next to me. I climb the fire escape as fast as I can. I can't wink. I'm feeling sick and I can't possibly scare him like that.

I can still smell his fear but it has switched, it's a different kind of fear. It's emotional. I would know that smell anywhere.

The damp night air fills with his screams. I feel tears rolling down my cheeks as I try to block his desperate screams that consist of one word, my name.

I sit on the roof and rock back and forth and all I hear is, "AIMEE!"

Chapter One

I put my hand up to the old door and take a breath.

"Just come in, you pain in the arse."

I smile and open the door. His black eyes are mocking me. I can see it all over his face.

"I need your help," I mutter and close the door to his house.

He smirks and crosses his arms. His sarcastic shit-eating grin pisses me off, but it doesn’t change things. I need him.

Dorian strolls across the hardwood floor silently in his sock feet and leans against the marble counter. "Tell me everything, love." His tight dark jeans and tucked in pale blue shirt make him look more European. The worn brown leather jacket slung over the back of the chair next to him is his attempt at badass American. I would roll my eyes at him but I can't. I need him.

He smiles and my sex drive kicks into gear. His affect on me is beyond annoying.

"Do you need me to help in anything that would require me taking my shirt off? Or yours?"

I shiver and fight my rage. "I could kill you Dorian."

He holds his hands up. "It's why I've maintained my efforts to get into your pants. I think it would be quite the ride."

I scowl.

He chuckles and his accent gets thicker, "My pet, you really are in a jam this time aren’t you? You've got some desperation, just, right there on your cheek." He brushes a finger against my face.

I flinch away from him. "This was a mistake." I turn to leave but he grabs me and swings me into his embrace.

He forces his lips on mine.

My fingers tingle, but I push it back. I need him alive. I shove him, but his grip is intense. He drives his tongue into my mouth. The sweet and perverse taste of him makes my legs quiver. He lets me go and I swear I see stars for the smallest moment.

"That is how you should be kissed," his words are a dark whisper, threatening me with more. My body wants to agree with him. I can't hate him, not the way I used to. I'm not even convinced I ever could.

I cover my face and breathe. "If I ask you to do something and not tell Aleks will you?"

He laughs. "That's all you have to say after a kiss like that?"

I maintain my composure.

He rolls his eyes and nods, "Go on then, although for the record I did just do something I won't tell Aleks about. Now if you want a favor, I want one too."

I remove my hands and attempt a disgusted look. He flashes a grin and walks by me, nudging me. He grabs a bottle of wine from the huge rack and uncorks it slowly, as if he's debating.

I wish I could hate him, most of the time. The rest of the time I have an inner conflict over why it is I want to rip his clothes off and lick his naked body.

He smirks. "Are you thinking naughty thoughts about me?" I do love the way he says naughty.

I growl, hoping anger will make my red face convincing, "Can you?"

He nods and pours the whole bottle into a crystal carafe. He swirls it over and over. He's making me wait on purpose. He walks around to the cupboard and pulls out two large glasses. They're the size of crystal fish bowls. "Well go on with it. What is it?" His dark eyes sparkle. "Before I agree and all."

"I've messed up. I need you to wipe Shane's memory, again."

He laughs. It's bitter and sarcastic, like his soul. "Oh Aimee, you really have the most intense feelings for that boy? Don’t you?"

I clench my jaw. My hands tingle.

He glances at my hands and growls. "Keep it in your pants, love."

I rub my hands on my jeans and take deep breaths. "It isn’t whether I love him or not. It's who's right for me and who I won't kill."

He pours me a glass of wine and hands it to me. "If he wasn't human, who would you pick?"

I suck in my breath and shake my head. "Not playing that game Dorian. I made my choice. I don’t regret it. I love Aleks." My eyes are welling and my hands tremble when I tilt the glass back. I drink the room temperature spiced wine in gulps. I wipe my mouth and bite my lip to stop myself from saying anything else.

"Do you ever wonder how much of your love for Aleks is his spell?" His grin tells me he knows the answer to the question.

I sip the wine and watch him.

He drinks a large sip and nods. "I want you, Aimee. There is no denying it. I wanted you from the minute I frightened you in the elevator. I had to make certain you were good and scared of me." His eyes flash to my hands. "Didn’t want you thinking you could do anything with what I had given you."

I sip, taking it all in. "You hurt me and scared me on purpose?"

He laughs. "You’re smarter than that. You know I did. Now, if I can't have you the way I want you." He adjusts himself and smirks at my disgusted face. "Then I want to know the answer to the question of who? If the little bobby were immortal, would you choose him or Aleks? Or would you rather I start taking my pants off?"

I laugh, "I don't have an answer to that question, but keep your pants on in case one comes."